Rat in the Crib
by Aeilde Light
Summary: Left alone to watch Baby James, Harry investigates a noise. This is a one shot story.


There it was again, that squeaking noise. Harry looked up from his book annoyed and stood up. He was home alone watching baby James while Ginny was at work, and it seemed that ever since she left, he kept hearing this squeaking, with no apparent source.

Moving as silently as he could, he tried to discern where the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he began to recognize what the noise was: rodent squeaks. Harry grimaced. The last thing he wanted was for Ginny to come home and find the house infested with mice and rats. He slowly crept up the stairs, listening extra carefully. If he was quiet enough he could sneak up on them and capture them all at once, right now. Harry felt himself go cold; the squeaking was coming from James' room. Those damn rodents were in his son's room. It was all he could hope that the things hadn't hurt or scared James, and rodents are after all notorious for carrying diseases. Luckily, he had left the door to his son's room open to hear him better if he cried. Harry silently cast a Disillusion charm on himself and peeked his head past the doorframe looking in the room. He scanned the baseboards and corners, all the dark corners and crannies, and saw nothing. Stepping carefully over the squeaky floorboard, he entered the room wand raised and continued his search. James shifted in his bed and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the blankets keep moving. He felt his heart stop. The rat was in his son's bed; his sleeping child's blankets and pillows. Harry had to restrain himself from shooting spells immediately at the thing. He'd have to aim very carefully to avoid hitting James...

Harry crept closer to the crib, keeping his eyes on the large lump that was the rat, hiding under the blankets. Positioning himself, Harry got ready to stun the rat, but had forgotten to step over that last creaky floorboard in the room. He cursed as the rat scrambled out from under the blankets, took aim and shouted "STUPEFY!"

With a rather wheezy squeak the rat collapsed half way to the closet. He had woken James with his yell, and the baby was crying, unhappy to be woken before he had finished his afternoon nap. Harry walked toward the rat on the floor. It was a particularly old looking rat, it was almost completely bald, and its skin was covered in sores here and there. Harry made a mental note to bathe his son before putting him back to sleep. He moved to pick up the rat, but froze when he noticed the Rat's front left paw was missing.

"No... it couldn't be..." Harry breathed as he prodded the rat with his wand, performing magic he had only ever seen used in his first year. he gasped as the small rodent ballooned grotesquely into a sickly old man. Harry felt his knees give as his mind flashed back to that moment, long ago, when he last saw Peter Pettigrew choking himself to death with his silver hand. Apparently he had pulled the same trick again, cutting off his silver hand to same himself after they had left. And somehow, he had found Harry, again, and had taken to hiding in his house, in his son's room (and BED), likely believing that no one would find him hiding there. Harry looked down at the pathetic man, feeling strong conflicting emotions of pity, anger, and revulsion. He flicked his wand and sent a communication to the ministry, stating he had caught a former death eater in his home, and was quickly joined by four other Aurors, the loud cracks making James wail even louder. Harry explained the situation, finding it hard to keep the disgust he was feeling out of his voice. They quickly bound Peter then revived him. Peter's sunken eyes opened slowly and filled with fear, darting around the room, as he realized the situation he was in. His eyes found Harry and he immediately began to plead for his life, but Harry cut him off.

"Peter, you used up the last of your favors a long time ago. It's time you paid the price for everything you've done." The Aurors took Peter away, and it was the last Harry saw of him; when he heard the news that Peter died only a week later, Harry felt nothing.


End file.
